her Punishment

she saw His car in the driveway as she pulled in and her heart began to pound. Damn it!, she thought, Why couldn't I have gotten home first? she knew the answer, of course: He was perpetually on-time (or early), and she was perpetually late. This, however, was the least of her problems today. He had not expected her home before Him today, but she had failed to follow other instructions of His. This, of course, is what had her heart pounding. In any event, whatever preparations she might have made by getting home before Him were impossible now.

she pushed the button and watched as the garage door slowly raised. It seemed to take forever. she simultaneously wished it would never raise, so she would not have to face Him, and wished it would hurry up and let her in, so she could get inside and get it over with. It wasn't the punishment she knew was coming that she minded nearly as much as knowing she had to face Him and admit she had broken His rules. Worse than that, she had broken more than one of His rules on the same day! Before the garage door finished raising, she pulled her car into the garage, anxiously pushing the button to begin the doors descent back down to close out the rest of the world.

she opened the car door and hurried out before the garage door even finished closing. For a moment, she considered taking her time. she hated rushing for anything, even for Him she silently admitted to herself. Why should i rush in there? It won't make Him any happier, she thought. Before she even finished the thought, she knew the reason: He certainly had been waiting for her arrival, knew she was there, and was counting the seconds until she came to Him. anastasia, she thought to herself, you are a spoiled brat and it is no wonder you get yourself in trouble so often. she continued to chide herself for her brief, defiant thoughts and suddenly realized that, although her conscious mind may have allowed her a moment of free will from His control, her unconscious mind had not: she found herself standing next to her car, almost completely naked. Without a conscious thought, she had already removed her blouse, skirt, shoes, and bra. The only things left to remove were her garter belt, stockings, and panties, which she did quickly. she had been removing her clothing in the garage before entering the home (when they were alone) for as long as they had lived there, yet it still came as a bit of a surprise to realize it had become such a habit she no longer had to think about it. Today, it was a surprise for which she was very thankful.

she placed her clothing in the hamper next to the washing machine. she then reached into the cabinet above the washing machine for the collar. Made of black leather and engraved with the letters "mmpp", my most prized possession - the title He had bestowed upon her and only her. The collar was just one more symbol of His ownership of her. she often wished she were allowed to wear the collar outside of the house. Perhaps the reminder would have kept her from her errors in judgement today. she barely completed the thought when she heard His voice in her head. Do I not own you without the collar? Can you not remember to whom you belong without it? she almost replied aloud, No, Sir. I do not need anything to remember i am Yours. No, He would not be pleased by the suggestion she needed anything to remember to follow His rules.

she entered the house and began walking to where she knew He would be waiting -- the living room. she, once again, noticed the feeling of her heart beating in her chest. she reached up to her neck and checked to make certain the collar was still in place. It was unecessary, of course, to feel for the thick leather with her hands. she had tightened it to the sweet spot she had come to love, the notch that was constantly just-ever-so-uncomfortable in order to remind her it was there and why. Nonetheless, she knew she had better have it on. she had already been such a bad girl today and was terrified by the prospect of causing Him any further displeasure. As she approached the doorway to the living room, she got down on her hands and knees. she took a deep breath to calm her nerves and slowly crawled into the room.

There He sat in his large leather chair. The chair was perfect for Him; it dominated the room. It was the first thing anyone noticed when entering their living room. It overshadowed their beautiful sofa and love seat set. she loved that set. she loved the look of it and the feel of it. she dared not even hope today, however, of being permitted to sit on it. He certainly would not allow it.

As she approached, she carefully avoided looking directly at Him. Although she loved to look at Him (and He loved the way she looked at Him), this might be taken as an act of defiance under the circumstances, and she couldn't afford to have Him think that. she quietly crawled to position herself directly in front of Him. He sat there casually, appearing calm and relaxed. she, however, knew better. she had become highly attuned to His moods and knew He was far from calm or relaxed.

He simply sat there, almost as if He didn't notice her. This, of course, wasn't true. He was intensely aware of her presence and was watching her for any sign of defiance. she began to feel the pressure on her knees building. she almost started to say something, anything to cut the silence and try to assuage His displeasure. Thankfully, she caught herself. she knew she was not to speak until spoken to; this was one of the first rules He ever gave her. Uttering anything at this point would only have increased His displeasure and, likewise, whatever punishment He had in mind for her.

Finally breaking the silence, He demanded, "Tell me what you've done wrong today and why you deserve whatever fair and appropriate punishment I decide upon."